


beseech

by kvrosawa



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 05:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13675587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kvrosawa/pseuds/kvrosawa
Summary: precipitous curiosity sears his mouth, an overeager query hot on his breath and on the tip of his tongue. with much difficulty, he manages to get it out, though mutilated.





	beseech

the ebullient lilt in his laugh cogitates hers, infux of rubescent tinge 'pon his cheeks. and he wishes that he could express himself more eloquently than a few murmurs and quieted apologies. honey visage downcast, he has to have memorized the tag hanging limp from her blouse atleast a few hundred times by now. _"K-K..Kyouko,"_  he calls out to her, thin shoulders stiff with trepidation, though he is determined. frenetic with adrenaline at the chance to finally give voice to the name that has been framing his lips since he laid eyes on her. "Y..you've.." _ah._  "You've worked here long?"

"Tsuna," she says his name, a playful sort of mirth in that singular word. his breath catches in his throat. "you have come here every day for the past week and a half," she's writing his name on his cup, her handwriting elegant, unlike his own usual scrawl. how would she feel, he wonders, if she knew that he collected them all. sticky plastic cups with nothing left in them just sitting in his dorm. "don't tell me you're one of those people who only come during the fall," she's poking fun, albeit Tsuna still feels awful for disappointing her.

"I like—" he starts. "pumpkin spice lattes. very much." edict traced with overt bashfulness, his mittens wring, tensile of his thumbs finding each other, even through the thick fabric.

"I've noticed!" she responds with a cadence that could only be delineated as  _amused_. and his body starts to relax of its own accord, as though the curves of her smile were directly linked to all of the nerves in his body. Albeit Tsuna tenses again when he realises that she is about to cash him out, his limited means of communication about to be severed for the day.

precipitous curiosity sears his mouth, an overeager query hot on his breath and on the tip of his tongue. with much difficulty, he manages to get it out, though mutilated.

"What was that?" she pauses, inclining her head to him, asserting her acknowledgement. "I didn't hear you. Are you trying to order something else, Tsuna?" and her brows draw into a furrow once he jerkily shakes his head. her usual smile starts to falter.

"W….would you mind—"

"Oh, right! _Tsuna!_  My manager has noticed you coming in almost every single day. and he wanted to offer you a job."

_"Eeh?!"_

"Please think about it, okay? See you later!"

The next day — for the first time, he hesitated in the frame of the doorway.

"We already made your shit. Just come drink it already," calloused tenor says in a sneer directed towards him. Tsuna tries not to wince, albeit the barista still seems to notice.  _"Didn't you hear what I said?"_

_"Y..yes!"_  he hurries his stride towards the register in order to pay, his eyes averted for a different reason altogether. a different kind of fear.

"Where..wh..why is she gone?" Tsuna asks, audaciousness fleeting under the irate glance over from the other. he cringes in on himself, and desperately wishes that the whimper he elicited was a little quieter than it was just now.

"She needed a later shift for today? _Do I look like her fucking keeper_?" and Tsuna shakes his head. he's overwhelmed, upwrought with relief that he would probably still see her soon. The different barista snorts at him and the teen takes his cup, nothing written on it, and the latte itself barely room temperature. umber visage flicks to his name tag. Gokudera didn't make good lattes..

the cafe is in its closing stages by the time he comes back later that day, and he's not used to it. the dim lighting and the empty seats and bar stools.  _desolate_. "Am I too late?" he asks worriedly, the last thing he wants is to be rebuffed and then asked to leave.

he sees her turn at the sound of his voice, and even in the dark, her kind smile seems to contrast.  _"You drink coffee? Even this late at night?"_ she asks, she's tightening the apron wreathed around her small waist, and he notices her already reaching for the pumpkin spice flavor dispenser without him even having ordered anything. ichor stricken complexion, he can't help the blush that creeps down his neck.

_"Sometimes..!"_ Tsuna lies. and the only sound in the empty space is the sound of the milk steamer, he struggles for conversation topics once he is sure that she can overhear him. "I met your coworker today," he says, slightly deflating at the memory, albeit he inclines his head, curious. he could have sworn that he saw her pause for a moment. "he's not as good as you are," he laughs weakly, assuming that she was waiting for him to continue.  _"at making drinks, I mean.."_

she hums, rounding the counter and bringing him his cup. it doesn't have anything written on it either, but he decides that he is going to add it to the collection anyway.

" _Tsuna let someone besides me make him his coffee?_ " Kyouko's tone isn't as pleasant as before.

"I wouldn't have called it coffee," he says wryly, before backtracking. "I only love Kyouko! Kyouko's  _coffee_.."

her brows raise at him, and through his periphereal, he notices something in her hand.

she backs him against the counter, and he can feel his feet stumble over themselves in the effort to acquiesce her advance. was this in response to his confession? flush adorns his demeanor, and the teen can feel adolescent love covet to vocalize, beating in tandem under his ribcage, he swears he has two hearts, one for her and one for himself. " _K..Kyouko?_ " he queries, nervous, as she still hasn't said anything.

an abscinding blade, the tip gleams yearning.

"Doesn't it make sense to you? I want you to only look at me.  _Like you were before._ " she beseeches him, her tone considerate. "Only I can make things the way that you like them."

she presses the knife to his throat and he concedes, halation of cinnamon meeting hers, a suggestion of urgency in his pleading peruse. _"I—just want to be with you,"_  his voice lower than a murmur. obsecration flourishes amid each syllable, befouled enunciation, as though the very sentiment of the procured small talk was to be dismissed, falling on deaf ears. Tsuna was going to die. and he couldn't be happier. _"As long as it's you, it's o..okay!"_


End file.
